


Snack Chat

by Freedom_Shamrock



Series: BAMF Mari [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Protective Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Still Ladybug Without the Suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13384824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedom_Shamrock/pseuds/Freedom_Shamrock
Summary: Marinette hauls unreasonably light Chat Noir home to make him eat after an akuma battle.





	Snack Chat

**Author's Note:**

> It's clear we need more BAMF Mari, so here's some more. I'm expecting two more to come in this series. The cookies are here compliments of [Mischief_Tea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischief_Tea/pseuds/Mischief_Tea).

"You, sit," Marinette said in a firm voice that made it clear there was no room for compromise.

Chat Noir dutifully sat, having no intention of tempting that particular fate.  He'd known his classmate was sweet and brave, but he'd had no idea she was terrifying enough to make an akuma back down with nothing but a glare.  Embarrassingly, his hands were still curled up submissively, and it took more effort than it should have to lay them flat against her family's dining table.

"Oh sweetie, you've brought home a friend," Sabine Cheng's voice called from behind him.  She must have followed them up to the apartment.

Chat Noir turned his head, flashing a nervous grin.

Sabine froze in the doorway for a moment.  "Oh."  Her eyes went wide and her smile became… well, mischievous, if its similarity to her daughter's was telling.  "Well Chat Noir," she drawled.  "This is quite a surprise.  I'd no idea my daughter was entertaining superheroes."

"He's starving to death," Marinette pointed out as she rummaged in the cupboards, apparently not the least bit put out by her mother's appearance.

"We can't have that," Sabine said shortly, before crossing the room to join her daughter in the kitchen.

"It's not  **that** bad," he insisted.  "I mean, I know I'm thin."

"Much too thin," Sabine noted, setting out a plate.

"Thank you," Marinette said, glancing at him as if to say this supported her argument.  She handed her mother something from the collection in front of her.

"You look like one of those runway models," Sabine said nonchalantly.

"Exactly," Marinette agreed, deftly cutting a small batard loaf lengthwise.  She paused a moment.  "I will  **not** be using underweight models in  **my** shows."

"I should think not."  Sabine nodded firmly as she rinsed a tomato.  "Are you a model, Chat Noir?"

"What?!  Me?"  Of course it came out as an undignified squawk.

"Uh, uh.  Secret identities, Mama," Marinette cautioned.

"Oh yes," Sabine said offhandedly.  "My apologies."   She smirked at him, and he was reasonably certain his response had fully answered her prior question.  Both ladies looked down at the plate, assembling something without the need to talk.  "This looks lovely, but it's missing something."

Marinette met her mother's eyes and they both grinned.  "A sweet," they chimed together.

"What's your preference," Sabine asked him.  "Eclair?  Cookies?  Cake?"

"Uhhhhh…"  He'd never had a choice.  His father didn't allow such treats, and his friends just brought him things without asking, possibly out of fear he'd decline.

"If there are cocoa strawberry tartlettes left, I bet he'd like those," Marinette suggested.  She turned to set the plate in front of him.  The batard had been stuffed with spinach, veggies, and cheese.  A sliced apple lay spread on the side of the plate.

"I'll go see," Sabine said, heading for the apartment door.

"Can you bring me some lemon ginger cookies?" Marinette asked.  "I feel a sore throat coming on."

"Cookies for a cold?" Sabine asked, one eyebrow raised.

Marinette flashed her an innocent smile.  "Please?"

"You needn't come up with such silly excuses, my dear."  Sabine chuckled as she closed the door.

He looked down at the sandwich.  It looked amazing, healthy yet far more tasty than the crappy protein drinks his nutritionist had foisted on him.  It was absolutely not part of his approved meal plan, but that carefully measured portioned grid didn't take Chat Noir activities into consideration either.

"You're not leaving until you've finished," Marinette said, taking a seat across from him.  "I need to be sure you've eaten at least one full meal today."  That fiercely determined expression was back.

He found himself lifting the sandwich to his mouth without realizing what he was doing.  He took a bite, forcibly closing his eyes to block out the vision of strength in front of him, hoping it would help.  How did she have this power over him?  Why was today the first time he'd noticed it?  Was this a Chat Noir thing, or an Adrien thing?  Oh god.  If it wasn't a Chat Noir thing, he was going to be so screwed tomorrow in class.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is adequately cohesive. I wrote it while herding young dancers who specialize in Chinese traditional dance during extra rehearsals and all the backstage waiting time.
> 
> Feel free to visit me over on [Tumblr](http://freedom-shamrock.tumblr.com/). If you have constructive feedback or need to discuss an aspect of this story, I've found that sort of thing tends to work better via direct messaging or asks than the comments section here.


End file.
